The Tale of Dean Spyder
by FeralToast
Summary: The residents of Radiator Springs tell of a terrifying ghost car that haunts the desert roads. Vaguely based on the James Dean Curse. Moderate gore in later chapters. Crit welcome.
1. Chapter 1

The residents of Radiator Springs had settled at Flo's Café after a busy day and,with many of Lightning's fans gone or staying else where, all was pleasantly quiet . Most of the community were there, even two of the tuner gangs number where sat just away from the group. Without the gang mentality to boost their confidence they were quiet, shy and would keep to themselves; they sat listening to music DJ was providing ,through a pair of large headphones, to Snotrod. Flo was serving drinks and the townsfolk were listening to one of Mater's Tall Tales.

" And some say t' ghost light ain't no ghost" He paused dramatically "it's 'n alien!" His expression oddly serious, though that didn't help bring any weight to his story. Laughter rose up, Mater looked a little downtrodden, kicking a pebble with a tire.

Lightning nudged his pal " Aww, don't feel bad, buddy. No one believes in ghost stories; it's all cars in sheets and swamp gas " Lightning smiled, but Mater knew there must be one good ghost story to scare the stickers of his pal...

" Well whut about;The Legend of Dean Spyder?"

The towns folk went quiet, Mcqueen's eyes lit up with intrigue, he looked skyward in thought; " A giant spider?"

" No no no" Doc shook his hood, a wicked grin flickered across his grill. "Now that IS a horrible story".

" Tell it, tell it!" Mater hopped around like an excited child, much to his rusting body's squeaking chagrin. Sherriff rolled his eyes and mouthed 'oh dear' under his breath. Sarge nodded in silent agreement, though a rare, small smile curled the corner of his grill.

" Yeah, c'mon Doc. Lets hear this 'spooky' tale" Lightning sipped his drink and settled on his axles. Doc cleared his throat and readied for a ripping yarn.

Most of the residents had heard the legend in someway or other, Flo and Ramone looked a little uneasy as did Red who was subconsciously backing way. Stories like this kept him from was having trouble deciding whether to focus on a suspicious traffic light or the tale. Only Luigi, Guido and Lightning hadn't heard of this 'Spyder'. Guido looked almost as excited at Mater, though his limited understanding of American language would undoubtedly call for some translation from his Fiat friend.

Doc's deep throaty rattle was the perfect voice for any narration, all that was missing was a roaring fire in a hearth and maybe a smoking pipe, dangling from his worn lips. The pastel glow of the neon lights and the twinkling stars above would have to do.

" If everyone's comfortable, I'll begin."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Spyder, upstart new star of the Silver Screen. A silver-grey Porsche Spyder, his model was a rarity around these parts and he was only there to get to a race on the other side of the state. Surrounding him was desert, though the storm clouds that brewed ahead kept the heat down to a claustrophobic warmth. For now, the rain was staying at bay, within the churning grey thunderhead.

He rarely got a chance to drive alone. While on shoot, or travelling to them, he was usually assigned a chauffeur, or a 'babysitter' as he saw them. No fun allowed when they were around but now he was free. Free to be his own car. He'd almost forgotten what it was that he did before the show business swept him off his tyres. Much of his friends had shied away from him. He didn't want this but his schedule left him little time to see them and right now, the race was on his mind. That and the impending storm.

On the same track road, a few miles ahead and driving in the opposite direction was an anxious, young Ford Tudor coupe. Donny Turns was a ambitious student from a college a few towns over. He was on his way, back home after trip West. His black and white paint job helping him stand out in the steadily greying landscape. The dusty orange surroundings had changed to a dull brown and the clouds and sky merged as one in the distance. He was hoping to find a rest stop before the storm broke.

Spyder had never been allowed to drive in a storm before and the temptation to speed along, while the wind whipped at his flanks was much too strong. The speedometer read 50, then 55, 60 mph and still going. The road was straight, if a little dipped but the Porsche saw no one ahead of him and if the cops caught him? Heck, he was a star! No one could touch him, he thought confidently to himself. After a few miles, the road began to rise and one of the verges disappeared; the edge of the track rising more and more from the ground below. The Spyder had barely noticed.

The clouds parted on both cars. The first drops of water barely landed on their hoods before sizzling away in the heat. The fall became heavier, cooling Donny and waking up Dean from his daze. They were roughly 4 miles from each other, Donny keeping a moderate pace; Dean still pelting up the road at 70mph.

As the first strikes of distance lightning hit, Dean found himself incredibly excited; He'd never driven in a storm, not on his own and as the road grew steeper and the clouds gathered lower, he felt he was in the storm his self. Clouds spewed light and growled thunder as he raced along. The rain started to stream down, bejeweling his grey paint; masking him as just another part of the cloud. He'd forgot to turn his headlights on. His eyes weren't on the road. He thundered onwards into the fray.

Donny was travelling as slow as he dared. He needed to make up time to get home but the wet cliff top road kept him cautious. He swore he saw a glint of something up ahead but he couldn't be sure. There was a nearby strike of lightning. He jolted as the light and sound filled the air and remained as a crackling sensation.

Dean was half a mile away. Closing the gap and still day dreaming. Donny couldn't see. Water streamed into his shields, he couldn't keep the deluge off as it constantly blurred his sight. The Porsche was meandering about the narrow road, his view was partially blocked by the cliff rise to his right. Even as rocks began to tumble from it and mud seeped across the road he was barely registering it.

It was Donny who noticed the other first. At about 10 yards away, he saw the ghostly Porsche, dart out from seemingly nowhere. Dean had strayed across into the Ford's path. He slammed the brakes on. Seconds to late. Dean registered even later. The two saw eye to eye for a split second. The same age. Different lives.

There was a short, sharp screech and a crash. The thunder almost synchronizing with it, its thundering moan swallowing up the clatter of metal.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN; Some gore in here. I'm basing my cars on the living-machine theory, so their innards are a mix of mechanical and biological. Sorry for the OC Centric-ness. :(_

The Porsche had slid backwards on the edge of the cliff. He had little time to yell out before gravity sent him pirouetting down the rocky cliff side. Each collision breaking something else; a headlight, his bumper, teeth. His screams were cut short as his front end drove into the scree, filling his mouth with dirt and stones, causing him to choke. Specks of white flashed in his eyes as his mind throbbed. As what was left of him neared the bottom of the cliff he could feel himself slowing up; his arcs through the wet air became slower and slower. He couldn't feel any sort of relief as he tipped onto his back end again, the last roll, he could feel it. He blinked and gasped heavily at the swirling grey mist above him.

His mind rushed, _what had happened? Was it really that bad? _The pain had numbed, allowing for a brief period where, aided by enough adrenalin, he was blissful that it was over. He felt himself tip backwards, roof-first. Just once more.

Indeed, it was the last roll. Beneath him, was a sharp rock, jutting out from the floor. As he fell, the jag popped through his roof with enough force to drive through his internals but slow enough that he felt it tear its way through him. The sound of his strangled cries met the shell-shocked coupe snapping him out of his trance. He had never left the roadway far above and while he had suffered a heavily dented grill, the car below him was beginning to fit as his systems shut down.

Dean's vision blurred, then faded to black. Blood, oil, saliva and some other foul liquid spilled from his mouth. The pulsating pain that wreaked through his body began to fade but he was still aware enough to know this wasn't a good thing. His back tires kicked as he felt the strange sensation of falling, a speck of white pulsed somewhere in his mind. We have more to live for. _It's not that bad. I can make it_... His body shuddered, slick black mess dripping from the rock, protruding from his underside. There was a small whine as his shivering body suddenly went cold. Silent.

Donny was slumped against the cliff side. His tires tucked in, save for his front left; the crash had twisted the axle and moving it sent a wave of sharp pain through his chassis. The rain pelting down on him; almost lulled him into sleep before a crack of thunder startled him, his yelp of surprise high-pitched and weak. He gulped, he felt himself about to retch but he stood up on his tires, steadying himself before following the two black streaks of burnt rubber. He'd not readied himself for the sight below as he peered over the edge. As if on cue ,a strike of lightning illuminated the twisted corpse below, . Donny gasped and hit reverse almost smashing into the opposing cliff face.

_I've killed him_. His mind raced, replaying the event over and over._ I killed him. I didn't mea- I should have been more careful. _He began to wail , his chassis shuddering with each sob. His tears mixed with the rain and ran down his cracked hood in small rivulets. He couldn't bring himself to move. He sat there in shell-shocked silence.


End file.
